How Cupid Got His Wings
by Sw33tCh3rryP13
Summary: Oneshot! A bit of Valentine's Day fluff! Draco hates Valentine's Day, but if he could just recognize what's right in front of his face, he might realize that love is grand. A bit of language, but no real smut (I know, I know, you're shocked!) This is Post-Hogwarts and obviously EWE; alive Snape, alive Fred, brief mentions of other pairings.


Disclaimer: I do not own any part or parcel of the Harry Potter franchise (though I exploit them shamelessly). The characters and all content true to the original stories, including but in no way limited to direct bits of dialogue, are the sole property of Joanne K. Rowling, respective publishers, and/or Warner Brothers Studios. The original plot of this story _does _belong to me. However, I have received no financial gain from the writing of this story, but do it solely for my own amusement and (I hope) yours.

*LoveLoveLove*

A bit of belated fluff for Valentine's Day, based on one of my favorite corny romantic movies! Also, sorry if I flooded your inboxes; I don't care what FF says, the f-ing document editor does NOT work! - SCP

~*~ How Cupid Got His Wings ~*~

February 12th, 2008

Draco Malfoy stomped down the corridor with a scowl, dodging flower delivery people and puffs of shimmering red and pink enchanted glitter that rained down from the ceiling of the Auror department and onto hapless unsuspecting victims, causing them to spout disgusting love poetry for the next hour. All around him, people were smiling and laughing, stealing kisses and holding handshakes just a little longer than necessary. All around him, people were _happy_, and Draco was miserable. He was miserable because he fucking _hated _Valentine's Day. Too bad his workplace had devoted the entire _week _to celebrating love, and the actual holiday itself was still two days away. It could only get worse, and Draco was contemplating taking a sick day on Thursday just to avoid the climax.

Finally reaching the tiny office he shared with his Auror partner, Draco strode in and shut the door firmly behind him, looking around in relief. Two plain grey metal desks and black rolling chairs, a bank of tall, austere filing cabinets and cheap, regulation white plastic miniblinds. No paper hearts, no poems, no kissing, thank Merlin. Sighing with contentment, Draco slipped off the beige muggle-style sportcoat he'd begun to favor over the last several years and hung it on the hat tree next to the door. He took down his crimson Auror robes and shrugged them on over his tan trousers and steel blue jumper, tying the sash securely at the waist. He'd just stepped away from the entry area and toward his desk when the door burst open again, and his partner strolled in with a broad grin on his handsome face.

"'Morning, Malfoy!" Harry Potter said cheerfully, brushing a small trace of pale pink glitter from the arm of his black wool button-up peacoat. Thankfully, it seemed he hadn't been touched by enough for the enchantment to take hold. Not that Potter needed an excuse to be ridiculously sentimental about Valentine's Day, Draco thought mutinously.

"Good morning," Draco grumbled, settling down behind his desk and flipping open a file for a report he'd not managed to finish the day before.

"It looks great out there! Don't you just love Valentine's Day?" Harry went about changing from his coat into his own Auror robes with quick movements, clearly still enthused.

Draco frowned at him. "What's to love? The shaming of single people? The ridiculous wastefulness of paper and baked goods? The sickeningly blatant commercialism? You astound me, Potter. Don't tell me you've fallen for this entrapment of the greeting card corporations."

Harry, having grown used – and even attached – to his grouchy partner, simply shook his head with a bemused smile. "Just because it started as a way to make money doesn't mean we can't honestly appropriate the holiday for good, Malfoy. How can you not like a day devoted to love? You cannot possibly see all of the romance around you and not feel a bit warm and fuzzy. It's the perfect opportunity to tell someone that you care about them…especially if they don't know that you fancy them." Harry peeked at Malfoy from the corner of his eye as he plopped into his desk chair.

Draco snorted. "Still trying to pry into my love life, Potter? Honestly, I'd think you would have enough to do trying to keep the _Prophet _out of _yours_ since that debacle last year."

Harry grimaced as he shuffled papers around on his desk. "Don't remind me, please."

Harry and Ginny Weasley had married after a five-year-long engagement. The previous spring, after a mere two childless years of marriage, they had quietly announced the dissolution of their union. Rumor and innuendo had run rampant until Harry had issued a simple public statement announcing that he was gay, and would not be answering any further questions on his love life for the press. Ginny had moved on and had started dating Seamus Finnigan just before Christmas. From what Harry had told Draco during their regular after-work outings to the Leaky, things between the two were still stilted but they were determined to be friends.

"So, which dashing bloke _have _you chosen for a valentine this year, Potter?" Draco asked, quickly changing the subject.

The brunet snorted derisively as he opened the brown paper bag he'd brought in with him and deposited on the desk. "Yes, because it's that easy. I just choose the one that I want from the countless men who are exactly what I'm looking for, and he instantly returns my affections." He rolled his eyes and lifted a paper cup from the bag, passing it over to Draco. "They were out of persimmon syrup, so I got a combination of black raspberry and almond."

"What about –"

"Nonfat milk, no foam and an extra dash of cinnamon," Harry confirmed.

Draco smirked and took the cup, bringing it to his lips and quietly swallowing a tiny sip. Perfect. His partner had even stopped making digs over his poncy drink order, so Draco was able to actually enjoy the consumption.

Harry withdrew his own extra-strong black coffee with one sugar and lifted it to his lips. Draco reached into his desk drawer and removed a stack of napkins, passing them over just as Harry took a large gulp of the too-hot drink and splashed droplets onto his front in his haste to spit it back into the cup. Harry took the napkins reflexively from the blond, who hadn't even looked up from his report while completing the now-routine exchange.

"You know," Draco commented blandly, "you could always let that cool longer. Or take smaller sips."

"So you tell me."

*LoveLoveLove*

Draco rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms over his head. It was past seven o'clock, and he'd finally managed to convince Harry to go home almost an hour ago, just over an hour past their official quitting time. That had to be a record. Harry was always faster at completing his paperwork, mostly because he wasn't the perfectionist that Draco was, and would try to stick around and wait on Draco when he had to stay late. The company was nice, but at least one of them should have a social life.

Draco grimaced as the mental reference to dating brought to mind again the secret that he was keeping from his partner. It wasn't that he was ashamed of being gay, but how could he possibly admit what he was to Harry so close to the man's own coming out? Wouldn't he look like a bandwagon jumper? Or even worse, just like the dozens of men who owled Harry on a daily basis announcing that they were gay because _he _was, and wanting to date him? Oh, that was just not on. He would tell Harry eventually, but the timing should be better.

Closing the file on his final completed report, Draco began straightening his desk for the next day. He tossed the empty container from the Greek take-away Harry had surprised him with just before leaving into the bin next to his desk and stacked papers into neat piles. He was just rising to change out of his robes when the air around him suddenly seemed to change. There was a sweet odor, like honeysuckle and oranges, and the edges of everything appeared to go blurry. Tiny, shimmering lights appeared and Draco could swear he heard harp music. Jumping into a defensive stance, he raised his wand just as a _pop _signaled the arrival of a…what the hell was it?

Everything around him had returned to normal, except there was a fat little man wearing a nappy standing in the middle of his office. The man had frizzy brown hair that was balding on top and a scruffy dark beard, and he had a quiver of arrows and an old-fashioned bow strapped to his back. He looked around the drab, undecorated office.

"Oh, _Christ_," he groused in a surprisingly deep voice. "They never can give me the easy ones, can they?"

Draco's eyes narrows suspiciously, and he kept his wand trained on the nappied man's face. "Who are you? How were you able to apparate in here?"

The squat little man took three stomping steps closer to Draco, holding up his hands to show he posed no threat. "Look here, be careful where you point that thing." He dipped into a deep bow. "I am the god of love. Many call me Cupid, but you can call me Ed."

Draco raised a brow. "Cupid's name is _Ed_?"

Ed huffed. "Yeah, well, what sort of a name is—" he snapped his fingers and consulted the small card that appeared in his hand, "Drah-cko?"

The blond scowled. "It's Dray-CO."

"Fine, whatever." Ed crossed his arms and regarded Draco speculatively. "So, let's have it, then."

"Have what?" Draco asked, confused.

"All of the reasons you need me to bring you together with your true love, of course."

Draco's mouth dropped open for a split second before he snapped it shut and frowned again. "You are some sort of Janus Thickey escapee aren't you?"

Ed heaved a put-upon sigh and rolled his eyes. "Look, I am only sent to those who need to claim their true love before Valentine's Day passes in order to be happy. So just tell me who it is and let me do my thing."

Draco's frown turned into a tiny smirk. "What on earth makes you assume I would allow a nearly-nude stranger to orchestrate my romantic life, even if I had one?"

Ed plunked his fists onto his wide hips and stamped one bare foot. "Because I am _Cupid_, you git!"

"Oh no," Draco said, shaking his head. "I've seen images of Cupid. Blond hair, pouty lips, rosy cheeks, _wings_. You are not him."

"Fucking Italian artists." Ed sighed and pinched the bridge of his wide nose in frustration. "Look, what have you got to lose? You tell me who you love, and what the problem is, and I fix it and get more points toward a promotion and my wings."

Draco crossed his arms and looked away, considering. No doubt he had fallen asleep at his desk and was having a strange dream caused by souvlaki-induced indigestion. "Even if there _was _such a thing as true love," he said slowly, "I suppose the answer to your questions would be one and the same. I certainly have no idea who it could be," he finished with more confidence.

Ed looked startled, then tipped his chubby head and considered Draco with a small smile. "Oh yes, I understand now. You must be the special case they mentioned to me."

"Special case?" Draco asked, affronted.

"Calm down, it's not a _bad _thing. It just means you're going to be a bit more of a challenge."

Draco looked skeptical.

"You don't believe in love," Ed stated, clarifying.

Draco shook his head. "Not in the sense of that 'soul mates, one true love, romantic drivel,'" he said. "I believe in love for family and friends, and long-term lust in relationships, but anything more is simply a social construct of hopelessly optimistic people."

Ed shook his head and smiled. "Didn't you ever believe in true love?"

The blond shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe."

Ed nodded knowingly. "You did, I can see it. You even believed that there was someone meant for you, someone you could love forever. When did you stop?"

Unbidden, Draco's right hand went to his inner left forearm, curling over it protectively, and Ed's eyes glinted.

"Ah." They stood in silence for a moment before Ed continued. "You have worked hard to become a different person, Draco. You help people. They respect you. You apologized to those you hurt and backed up your words with actions. You now count several Gryffindors among your closest friends. Do you believe you're a good person?"

Draco looked away, and then shrugged.

"Do you believe that you _deserve _love?"

The blond didn't answer, and Ed's gaze turned sad.

"Listen son, I'm here to tell you that you do have a true love. He already loves you."

Draco finally met Ed's gaze, surprise on his face.

"Oh yes, you were meant to end up together before you ever even met. He thinks you deserve love, and clearly the boss does, too, or I wouldn't be here."

Draco narrowed his eyes and took one step forward. "So then, you know who my true love is?"

"I do. Asking you to identify your true love is just a preliminary test. But," Ed said, holding up a hand to stave off Draco's obvious next question, "you aren't ready yet. If I tell you who it is, you'll go barging in with your sour attitude and protective shell and screw it all up. You need some experience with true love before you can accept yours."

"What do you mean, experience? Am I supposed to just go around snogging random blokes until you agree to reveal the identity of the one man who is supposedly perfect for me?"

Ed grinned. "Not at all. I think you should try out _my _job for a while. It's hard to remain so cynical when you actively help people fall in love."

Draco's brow furrowed. "So, what, I'm supposed to play at being a matchmaker?"

"Not in so many words. Just open your eyes. Most of the people around you already have someone in their lives they should be with, they just aren't brave enough to act upon their wishes. That's where you come in."

"And if I managed to bring together a couple, then you'll tell me who I should be with?"

Ed's eyes twinkled in a disturbingly familiar way. "Nah. I think _three _couples are more like it."

Draco gaped. "Three -?!"

"Tut tut, remember what I said. They're already halfway there, you just have to open your eyes." Ed grinned, but his image was already fading. "You have until the stroke of midnight when Valentine's Day becomes just February 15th. I'll be in touch."

Draco blinked in surprise when the pudgy little man popped out of sight. He stood staring at the empty space where he'd been for a moment or two, then shook his head with a wry smile. "Barmy. Absolutely barmy." He hurried to change and head home.

*LoveLoveLove*

Draco had spent half the night tossing and turning with indecision. On one hand, there was every chance that Ed had been a figment of his imagination. On the other, well, stranger things had happened in the magical world Draco had been raised in. What if he really _did _have a true love? Didn't some small part of him secretly want to be half of those couples he always scoffed at? Didn't he _want _to enjoy this time of year, to hold hands and kiss in the corridors, to spend too many galleons on just the perfect gift to bring a smile to the face of the person he loved? The answer, as it turned out, was _yes! _And so, just before falling asleep in the wee hours of morning, Draco decided to do his best to fulfill his end of the agreement. After all, the worst that could happen was that six other people would be happy, even if Draco was still alone.

It was with a sore back and tired, scratchy eyes that Draco made his way to the office the next morning. Today the glitter had been replaced by small bluebirds that fluttered and darted about. Those who they chose to perch upon spontaneously burst into a romantic serenade, much to the amusement of their coworkers. Draco allowed himself a tiny smile, but made sure to dodge one of the creatures headed his way. There was nobody in the department he loathed enough to subject to his singing.

Harry was already in the office when he arrived, and he noticed a small plate with his favorite cinnamon-filled pastry and his coffee sitting on his desk under a stasis spell.

"I reckoned you would be in the mood for a treat after having to stay so late," Harry explained, gesturing to the bun.

Draco grinned. "I am, thanks. Anything new come across before I got here?"

"Nope, just the usual. Kings said with the extra security in for that big concert downtown he expects it to be a slow day. Maybe we'll get lucky and we can knock off early for drinks," Harry said with a smile.

"Yeah, that would be nice, but I'm not going to hold my breath." Draco returned his partner's smile.

They each finished reading over the graveyard summary quickly, and then there was nothing to do but wait for more work to come in. Draco drew a blank piece of parchment from his desk drawer to begin brainstorming who he could successfully pair up, while Harry pushed his chair back and kicked his feet up onto his desk, crossing them at the ankle.

"How's your mum? Are they home yet?"

Draco paused and glanced up before continuing to write as he answered. "She's well, thanks. And no, she and Sev have decided to extend their tour of Italy to the Southern region. She wrote in her last letter that it might be next month before they return to England." Narcissa, like Draco, had been spared Azkaban thanks to Harry, though Lucius has been sentenced to the kiss. On his third day in the prison, a guard discovered that Lucius had hung himself using his bed sheet, dying in a cowardly fashion just as he had lived. Though Draco had mourned with his mother, he had felt somewhat detached, as if it had been a favorite uncle who had passed rather than his father. It was only the following year, when his mother had remarried Severus, that Draco realized it had been a long time since he'd stopped looking to Lucius as his father and had allowed his godfather to fill that place in his heart. He'd been devastated on the day of the final battle, when he'd heard that Sev had been killed. Fortunately, it was Granger – now Weasley, and forever after Hermione, to Draco – who had realized that Nagini was a rare type of pygmy basilisk, and that the potions master was only in a state of stasis. Of course, he still carried a permanent scar from the bite, and he now had a slight limp after never quite regaining full function of one leg, but loving and being loved by Draco's mother seemed to have melted a little of the frigid layer around Severus, and everyone was grateful to have him (mostly) healthy and happy (at least as happy as was possible for the dour-faced man). Severus and Narcissa were currently taking a second honeymoon tour of the continent, a celebration of sorts since they had discovered that Draco's mother, at forty-eight, was expecting.

"I'm surprised she isn't more anxious to get home. Is the healer not worried about her travelling when she's due in only a few months?" Harry asked. "I mean, given her…er…her level of…that is to say…"

Draco took sympathy on his adorably flushing partner and grinned, pushing his list away and looking up at him. "My mother is not what your muggles would call a spring chicken, certainly. However, you're forgetting that purebloods can have lifespans up to several hundred years. It's more common for the women to get their birthing duties over quickly, of course, when the primary goal is to produce an heir, but they may be fertile into their sixties or seventies, sometimes even their eighties. As long as she's settled back at home before her May due date, the healer said not to worry."

"You asked, then?" Harry picked up on, with a teasing tone.

Draco lifted his chin in a slightly defensive gesture that had become familiar to his partner. "Perhaps. She's still my mum, after all."

Harry touched Draco's hand gently with the toe of his boot where it rested near the dividing line of their desk space. "I know. You're a good son," he said quietly.

"Yes, well." Draco cleared his throat and picked up his list. "If we're going to get out of here early, I have a few things to do."

*LoveLoveLove*

"Ah, Eloise, just the woman I am looking for!" Draco approached the reception desk, where Eloise Midgen worked. He and Harry had been laughing over some memories from fourth year when inspiration had struck. Now Draco was going to use the remainder of his lunch hour to get Eloise together with the post room bloke who always brought packages up to her, and whose mere presence and made her blush and stammer. Harry had tried to pooh-pooh the idea, but Draco was certain he was on the right track.

"Auror Malfoy?" Eloise looked at him suspiciously. Understandable, since Draco couldn't remember having ever spoken to her before. "What can I do for you?"

"Draco!" Harry appeared at his side, panting, having run down the corridor after the blond. "Wait, this is a seriously bad idea."

Draco waved him off. "It's not what you can do for me, Eloise, it's what _I _can do for _you._" He smiled smugly, then glanced around. Right on time, Peter – that was the man's name, he remembered – stepped off of the lift with a stack of brown paper-wrapped packages and headed toward them.

"Eloise," Draco said airily, "we all know about your little crush." He smiled encouragingly to show his lack of malicious intent.

Eloise glanced at Peter and then visibly swallowed. "Wha-what?"

"Draco, really, I wouldn't –"

"Hush, Potter." Draco reached out once Peter was close enough and latched onto his elbow, dragging him close to the reception desk. "Yes Eloise, I know you've been pining for Peter, here," he continued loudly. "Now the time has come to be brave! I've made a dinner reservation for the two of you at L'Amandier, and now you two can spend Valentine's Day together!" Draco stepped back and smiled triumphantly, crossing his arms across his chest and oblivious to the growing discomfort of both Eloise and Peter.

"_What?_" A brunette at the classifications desk suddenly sprang to her feet, her face flushed and her eyes rapidly going moist. "Peter, what is this about?"

"I-I…I have no idea!" Poor Peter looked haplessly between Eloise and the brunette.

"Oh _really_? Well if you want to spend Valentine's Day with _her, _then you can forget about _us!_" The dark-haired woman turned on her heel and ran toward the loo, covering her face with her hands.

Peter mumbled something and hurried away, no doubt to try to talk her out of the ladies' to explain.

And poor Eloise covered her mouth, blinking rapidly, and took off toward the stairs.

Draco looked at Harry in confusion. "I don't understand. Who was that woman?"

Harry winced. "That was Julia, Peter's girlfriend," he clarified quietly.

"Oh."

"Yeah. It was a lovely idea, but I wish you would have listened to me." Harry took Draco gently by the arm. "Come on, let's get back to work."

*LoveLoveLove*

Draco grunted with frustration and threw his quill down for the fifth time in an hour. The day was nearly over, and he was running out of time. He had managed to track down Peter and convince him to buy Julia the largest flower arrangement he could afford, as well as promising that they could keep the restaurant reservation. Now he needed two more couples to bring together.

He tried to concentrate once again, but only a few seconds later someone was knocking on the office door.

"Come in," Harry called.

Blaise Zabini opened the door and leaned in with a grin. "I heard a rumor there were two lucky bastards in here that might be getting ready to head for drinks."

Harry jumped up. As Kingsley's personal assistant, Blaise would convey decisions about releasing shifts early. "Really?"

Blaise nodded. "Really. It's so slow, he's even sending me home. Said watching me spin around in my chair is getting on his damn nerves. I thought I'd join you."

Draco stood with a smile and started to change from his uniform robes into his everyday jacket, as did Harry. "Sounds good. We're just headed to the Leaky, though."

Blaise shrugged. "Fine by me." His eyes fell on the jacket Harry was slipping into and widened. "Wow Potter, nice threads."

Harry blushed and looked down at the dark blue velvet blazer he wore over a worn, beige vintage tee-shirt with a dark red screened dragon on the front. "You think? Ginny and Hermione dragged me out shopping, this is the first time I've worn it. I kind of thought it might be too much."

Blaise reached out to touch the fabric of Harry's sleeve, and Draco felt a strange burning go through his gut. He frowned.

"Not at all, it looks great," Blaise said.

"Well, thanks." Harry smiled slightly and glanced at Draco. "Last one to the floo pays!"

*LoveLoveLove*

Draco settled back into his set with a sigh, happily buzzed on ale and even happier that Blaise had just departed to help Pansy with some sort of "emergency." Knowing Pansy, she'd chipped a nail or something equally minor. But tonight Draco was glad for her hysterics. His old friend had kept finding reasons to lean toward Harry or touch him, and that same feeling from the office would attack Draco every time. He couldn't figure out what the problem was, but he knew he didn't like it.

Harry leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table with a grin. "Did you ever imagine that you, me and Zabini could actually have fun together?"

Draco snorted. "Never. Life is stranger than fiction, I suppose."

Harry frowned.

"No, I'm glad we get along, make no mistake," Draco said. "I just still think we're an odd trio."

Harry was smiling again. "Speaking of odd groups, I'm headed to Ron and Hermione's tonight for dinner. They're fighting again, and I think 'Mione's hoping I can talk some sense into Ron. She told me to bring you along if you want to come."

Draco nodded. "Sounds okay, I could go for a home-cooked meal." Privately, he was thinking it might be just the chance he was looking for. If Weasley and Hermione truly were fighting, he could bring them back together and make them his second couple.

Harry shifted, leaning back in his seat and tilting his head. "You know, if you settled down yourself you could have home-cooked meals every day."

Draco looked away, over Harry's shoulder. "That's true, I suppose." He took a sip of his drink.

"So why haven't you?"

Draco smiled a bit and picked at the label on his bottle. "Just haven't found the right person, I suppose."

Puzzlingly, Harry's face seemed to fall slightly before he nodded.

"What about you?" Draco asked, turning the attention on his partner. "You ducked the question the other day, but I really want to know; why haven't you started seeing anyone seriously?"

Harry blushed, and Draco thought again how attractive the brunet was with his cheeks pinked and his lashes fluttering bashfully.

"Well, there was someone…"

Ignoring the twisting in his gut – it was surprise, of course; Harry had never mentioned so much as a date - Draco nodded encouragingly. "Was?"

"I'm interested, he's not." Harry shrugged, staring at his hands where they rolled his empty bottle back and forth.

Draco blinked in surprise. "Is that even possible?" He couldn't imagine anyone rejecting Harry. The man was fit with a handsome face, he was talented, both funny and fun to be with, and a hard worker.

Harry rolled his eyes and chuckled shortly. "Yes, yes, I know, the Chosen One should have men falling on his feet by reputation alone," he said sarcastically.

Draco didn't bother to correct him; he was too busy considering with surprise the fact that Harry's fame hadn't factored into his disbelief one bit.

"But yeah, I think I'm just not his type. Also…we have a bit of a history," Harry finished sadly.

Draco drew in a breath at that last bit of information. _Blaise_. It had to be. After watching the man flirt so shamelessly with his partner tonight, he should have guessed it right off. Blaise had a bit of a reputation, too, so it was no wonder Harry assumed he wasn't serious in his interest.

Well, Draco would do his best to bring them together. He physically winced at the pain and nausea that rolled through his chest and stomach at the thought. What the hell? What was the matter with him? Had he not changed as much as he thought? Why would he begrudge his partner his happiness, when he was certain he really and truly wanted Harry to be happy?

"Draco?" Harry was looking at him with concern, and Draco managed to give him a weak smile.

"I'm fine. We'd better get going, if we don't want to be late for dinner.

*LoveLoveLove*

"And _he_ took his _mother's _side!" Hermione fumed, arms crossed and jaw set.

From the moment Draco and Harry and stepped from the floo into the living room of the Weasley cottage, the blond had been trying to regret his decision to come. Unfortunately, he had difficulty regretting any time that he spent with Harry.

"What's wrong with that?" Draco asked in confusion from his perch on the large ottoman.

"Thank you!" Ron said, at the same time Hermione glared in his direction and Harry grunted through gritted teeth, "You are not _helping_."

"Hermione," Harry said in his most calming voice, "I am sure Molly didn't _mean _to insult your taste in throw pillows."

Draco's lashes fluttered as he tried to keep his eyes open with Harry's deep, quiet voice sliding over him like warm honey. He shivered, but was startled out of his enjoyment by Hermione's screech.

"Oh yes she did! _And _she insulted me! She insulted me, while my _darling husband _– oh, excuse me - mummy's ickle _Ronniekins_ just stood there and sided with her!" Hermione stomped her foot in anger.

Draco's brow wrinkled with concern. He had no idea how to fix this. He bit his bottom lip and wondered if this was the end of Hermione and Weasley's marriage.

"Let's all take a deep breath and be calm," Harry was saying. He waited until both Ron and Hermione had lost some of the red in their faces. "Now Ron, why don't you _calmly _tell me what happened from your perspective? Hermione, no interrupting."

"Well, mum stopped over for lunch yesterday…"

Draco tuned out and watched Harry. He had discarded his jacket, and Draco took in the way his tee-shirt stretched over his broad shoulders with his hands on his hips that way. His face was serious, placid yet encouraging, but his eyes were alive with intelligence. Draco watched Harry's lips move, not listening to the words but just watching that mobile mouth, pale pink in the surrounding dark stubble. Suddenly, Harry turned his attention to Draco, and the blond felt like lightning was zipping through his body.

Oh no. No, no, no. This was bad. Really bad. How had he not recognized it before? Wasn't there some little hint? Oh fuck, he was screwed.

He wanted his partner.

Images flooded his mind, Harry laughing, bringing him coffee, listening intently to what Draco had to say and talking to him as a friend. Shit.

No, he might be in love with his partner. Possibly. Was this heart-clenching, stomachache-inducing feeling what everyone else was so hot about? Draco thought it sucked. In fact, he thought he might need Harry to kiss it better.

But Harry wanted Blaise, and apparently Draco had some other true love waiting for him in the wings.

"Draco?" Harry had stepped closer, and it was obvious he'd been trying to gain Draco's attention for some time.

The blond startled. "Sorry, I think I drifted off." He tried to smile, and he must have been successful because Harry smiled in return.

"I was just asking what you think."

What he thought? What he thought was that he'd like to drag Harry back through the floo and take him to bed. "Sex," he said without thinking.

Ron snorted, and Harry and Hermione looked shocked.

"Pardon?" Harry asked.

"Er, I think they should have sex?" He willed himself not to flinch at the ridiculous cover.

Hermione's lip was trembling, clearly withholding laughter. "Well, thank you for your advice, Malfoy."

He frowned. "What's so funny? Don't most fighting couples have sex after they've sorted things?"

Harry grinned. "I'm sure a lot of them do. But I asked you if you thought we should all go out for dinner to celebrate Ron and Hermione making up."

Draco felt himself go red. "Oh?" he asked quickly to divert attention. "Everything's all right, then? No splitting up?"

Hermione smiled, and Ron laughed. "Of course not! Who splits up over throw pillows?"

*LoveLoveLove*

Draco groaned as he dropped onto the chesterfield in the sitting room that housed his floo. Dinner had been torture, with Harry sitting next to him close enough to touch so soon after his revelation. Even knowing that his partner wanted someone else didn't seem to be enough to quell _his_ overwhelming want for Harry.

_Pop!_

Draco looked up, and then groaned again when he saw Ed standing in the center of the room.

"Get your sweaty bare feet off my Arabian rug."

Ed rolled his eyes but backed up a step to stand on the ivory marble floor. "I came to remind you that you only have until tomorrow night, and you still need to bring together three couples."

Draco lifted his chin with pride. "Incorrect. I have already brought together two couples, and I have only one remaining."

Ed crossed his arms and shook his head. "_Incorrect_," he said mockingly. "Peter and Julia were already together. Fixing what you almost destroyed does not count as bringing a couple together."

Draco opened and closed his mouth, but couldn't think of anything to say in his defense. "_Fine_," he said once he had regained his composure, "but what about Weasley and Hermione? They were perfectly happy and on their way to have marital coitus when I left them not even half an hour ago."

"Ron and Hermione were already married, Draco."

"But I solved their argument!" Draco flung his arms wide to illustrate his point.

"_Harry _solved their argument, while you stood there and daydreamed." Ed raised a brow and looked at Draco pointedly.

The blond flushed. "Well, I was _there_. And I'm the one who suggested sex," he grumbled.

Ed sighed with a smirk and shook his head again. "Luckily, the boss knows your intentions are good. You just really suck at this."

Draco glared.

"We have another offer for you, and it nullifies the first. There is _one _couple that is most important now. Figure out who the two people are and bring them together by midnight tomorrow night, and your true love will be revealed to you."

Draco sighed, feeling ragged. "I know who it is. And I'll do it."

Ed gave him a mysterious sort of smile. "Maybe you do, maybe you don't. We'll see." Without another word, he popped out of sight.

Draco ran a hand over his face. He knew what he had to do, no matter how difficult it was. He had learned the hard way about sacrificing your happiness, your safety, even your life for someone you cared about. Now it was time to put what he'd been taught into action. At the end of the day, what mattered most was Harry's happiness.

He moved to the floor and threw in a handful of powder, calling out "twelve Grimmauld Place" and leaning in.

"Hello?" Harry asked, moving closer.

"Good, you're still awake. I was wondering if you're free for dinner tomorrow night."

Harry blinked. "Tomorrow's Valentine's Day."

Draco bit his lip nervously. "Oh, you already have plans, then?"

"No…no I don't have plans." Harry grinned brilliantly, and Draco felt the impact of that smile all the way through the floo. "I'd love to have dinner with you."

"Great!" Draco managed to paste a smile on his face. "I thought you, Blaise and I could try that new seafood restaurant near Loch Tay."

Harry's smile dimmed a bit. "Oh. Oh, I see. Um, I love seafood."

Draco nodded. "I know. Well, I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Draco," Harry said softly.

*LoveLoveLove*

Draco fidgeted nervously, watching the permanent tempus charm on the wall of his and Harry's office. They had each gone home to change, agreeing to meet back there and floo to Scotland together, where they would meet Blaise at the restaurant. What neither Harry nor Blaise knew was that Draco had arranged for an "emergency" to call him back to London, so that they could have a romantic dinner alone. It was foolproof, really. Perfect.

Well, perfect if he ignored the gaping, aching wound that seemed to have taken up permanent residence between his heart and his stomach, causing pain in both. The department had been filled with flowers and hearts, and people in love. All day long, Harry had barely spoken to him but kept looking at him in a way that made Draco's heart speed up in his chest. He entertained a brief fantasy that Harry's secret crush was on _him_, and that he would tell Harry he was gay and Harry would confess everything. Then he repressed a scoff and cursed himself for being so pathetic. Harry wanted _Blaise_, not Draco. If he kept silently repeating it, surely it would sink in. He sighed and checked the time again, hoping his partner would show up soon. Draco only hoped that whoever his mystery true love was, he was even half as perfect for him as Harry would have been.

*LoveLoveLove*

"Pardon me, mister Malfoy?" the pretty brunette hostess approached the table where he, Harry and Blaise had just been seated, startling Draco out of his attempt to stealthily ogle Harry's arse in the snug chocolate brown corduroy trousers he wore.

"Yes?"

She smiled apologetically. "There's a floo call for you up front."

Draco stood, putting on his best surprised look. "Alright." He turned to his friends. "Please excuse me for a moment."

Leaving the other two men behind, he followed the hostess out of sight as they had arranged. Now he would floo home and spend the rest of his night trying _not _to think about what Harry and Blaise were doing, and the hostess would send a message back to the table that Draco had been called home for an emergency.

He stepped out of his floo and slipped off the formal deep blue outer robes he'd worn, tossing them over the back of a chair. He toed off his dress shoes, fixed himself a drink, and was just about to sink onto the sofa when the fire in the hearth turned green and deposited someone onto his rug.

"Harry?" Draco set his glass on a side table and reached down to help Harry up, dusting soot from the other man's clothing.

"Draco? What is it? Is it your mother?" Harry clutched at Draco's forearms and stared into his face, eyes frantic.

Draco's stomach sank. He hadn't even considered that Harry would be so worried about him that he would leave Blaise and follow.

"No, Harry it's nothing, everything's fine."

The brunet looked at him with confusion. "The girl at the restaurant said you had an emergency call."

Draco bit his lip and looked at his stocking feet. "I know she did. I arranged it. I just figured…three's a crowd, you know?"

Harry's lashes fluttered, and his face became less confused as he seemed to work everything out. "You were setting me up with Zabini."

"Well, I know that he likes you, and you obviously like him…"

Harry's brows shot up to his hairline, as he released Draco like a hot poker and took a step backward. "I like…?"

Draco forced a smile onto his face. "Go back and have dinner with Blaise. I think the two of you make a great couple."

Harry seemed to flinch, and Draco was surprised to see that he looked oddly disappointed. "You do?"

Draco swallowed. "I really do."

"Well then…" Harry took another step backward and reached for the floo powder, giving Draco that soft look that made him feel odd, just like he had earlier that day. "I suppose I'll go back to dinner, then."

Draco nodded encouragingly and waved until Harry disappeared, and then he dropped onto the sofa with a soft whimper. God, he felt like someone had ripped his heart out with their bare hands. He gritted his teeth and determinedly reminded himself that it was worth it, for Harry's happiness. If he was lucky, maybe he'd feel happy again someday, too.

All that was left to do was wait.

*LoveLoveLove*

Draco awoke to his name being called softly. He quickly realized he'd fallen asleep on the sofa, and grabbed his wand to light the room. "Blaise?"

His friend stood, arms crossed, smiling down at him.

"You idiot."

"What?" Draco rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "What are you talking about? Why aren't you with Harry? What time is it?"

Blaise laughed softly. "It's after eleven, I'm not with Harry because I just dropped him off, and you are an idiot because I just spent over two hours listening to him talk about _you_."

Draco felt as if all of the breath had been stolen from his lungs. "What?"

Blaise sat beside him on the chesterfield. "Draco, you must be blind, because I know you're not stupid. Potter is crazy for you. And yeah, I think he's fit. But I never thought further than that, because anybody with functioning eyes could see how he felt."

Draco slowly shook his head. "It...it can't be. He doesn't even know I'm gay."

"Erm…that's not quite true." At Draco's look, Blaise hunched his shoulders sheepishly. "I might have told him a few weeks after the _Prophet _printed his statement last year."

Draco groaned and tipped his head back against the sofa cushion, covering his face with his arms. "Well then, that proves my point," Draco said, his voice muffled. "He's known about my preferences, but he's never even made a move. He's not interested in me."

Blaise laughed again. "Really?"

Draco peeked at Blaise from under his arm. "He is?"

"I was pulling out my best moves, D, and he kept bringing the conversation back to you. Honestly, if I have to hear about how wonderful you are one more time, I might throw up in my mouth a little," Blaise teased, stretching out on the long sofa.

Draco stood abruptly and headed for the floo. He didn't know what sort of wrench this would throw into Ed's plans, but he did know that he couldn't wait one more moment to tell Harry how he felt, and to find out if his partner felt anything for him.

Blaise snickered from the sofa. "Good luck. I won't wait up."

*LoveLoveLove*

Just like Draco's floo was open to Harry, Harry's floo had been open to Draco since day one of their partnership. The room, however, was dark and quiet when Draco stepped into it. Harry must have already gone to bed. Quietly, Draco started toward the staircase, hoping he could remember how to reach Harry's chambers from the few times he'd visited during the week Harry had influenza. A few feet from the staircase, Draco tripped over a pair of shoes on the floor and fell into the bannister, cursing softly.

"Who's there?" Harry's voice called, followed by the thump of feet on the stairs. "_Lumos_!"

The room brightened considerably, and Draco pulled himself upright and dusted himself off, trying not to look embarrassed. He also tried not to look at Harry, who was shirtless and barefoot and wearing only his frameless silver spectacles and a pair of soft-looking pale blue cotton sleep trousers.

"Draco?"

"Hi, Harry."

The brunet came closer, clearly surprised to find his friend and partner invading his home in the middle of the night.

"What are you doing here?"

Draco rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Um, I wanted to talk to you."

Harry looked at him quietly for a moment, then moved past him into the sitting room with a sigh. "Let's sit down, then."

Draco took a chair across from the couch where Harry sat. "How was your dinner?"

Harry pressed his lips into a thin line, leaning forward and clasping his hands together between his knees. "Fine."

Draco sighed, knowing he was running out of time. He was just going to have to jump in with both feet. "Look Harry, I think there's been a mistake."

"Yeah, I got that." Harry said quietly, staring at his hands.

"No!" Draco dropped onto his knees and crawled forward until he could place his hands on Harry's knees. "That's not what I meant. Please look at me."

Harry seemed to take a shuddering breath, and then looked up into Draco's face. For the first time since arriving, Draco realized that Harry's eyes were red-rimmed, and his gut clenched.

"Blaise says you've known I'm gay," Draco said softly.

Harry nodded, his eyes darting away. "For a long time. I had a stupid idea that you didn't tell me because you were too _shy. _I thought you felt what I felt, and letting me think you were straight was…well, like I said, it was a stupid idea." Harry looked back at his hands.

"No Harry," Draco said, working the fingers of one hand between his partner's clasped ones. "It wasn't stupid at all. That may not be why I didn't tell you, but you weren't wrong. I do feel it." He stroked the back of Harry's hand with his thumb.

Harry shook his head and chuckled with self-derision. "Yeah, right." He glanced up again. "Draco, you tried to pass me off to Blaise. Nothing says 'I'm not interested' like trying to set someone who likes you up with someone else."

Draco lifted his free hand and cupped Harry's cheek, following when he at first flinched away. "Listen to me, please. I honestly thought you were interested in Blaise, Harry. I just wanted you to be happy. I thought I was doing what you wanted."

Harry blinked and bit his lip, drawing Draco's gaze to his plush mouth. "You really want me to be happy?"

Draco stroked Harry's cheek with his fingertips. "More than anything."

The corners of Harry's mouth turned up a tiny bit. "Even now?"

Draco leaned in, touching the tip of his nose to Harry's. "Especially now," he said softly.

"Then kiss me," Harry whispered.

Draco pressed his lips to Harry's, breathing his relieved sigh into the other man's mouth. Their tongues touched hesitantly just as the large clock in the entry began to chime midnight.

Draco was startled when something dropped onto his head, and he pulled away from Harry.

"What's that?" Harry asked, as Draco picked up the white card to read the message.

_Draco –_

_ Talk about the nick of time. You nearly gave me a heart-attack. Congratulations, anyway, and Happy Valentine's Day, you dense berk. Oh, and thanks for the wings._

– _Ed_

_P.S. The boss, A.D., said to tell you that "you were always worth it," whatever that means._

Draco's eyes went wide. A.D.? It couldn't be….it could, he thought, thinking of the familiar way Ed's eyes had twinkled. Draco shook his head with a smile. "That devious bastard," he muttered, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"What is it?" Harry asked again, his fingers still clutching Draco's free hand.

Draco set the card aside and leaned in. "I'll tell you later," he whispered, claiming Harry's mouth once more.

*LoveLoveLove*

_Epilogue_

_February 14__th__, 2009_

It was the engagement party of the century, spontaneously thrown together at the newly-renovated Grimmauld Place where Draco and Harry now lived together. Every friend and relative they had floo-called to announce their engagement had decided to offer their congratulations in person, and now the sitting room was overflowing.

"More mimosas!" Hermione called cheerfully, levitating a tray of filled glasses behind her with Molly Weasley following, carrying a pitcher of pumpkin juice for the non-drinkers and Hermione herself, who was just starting to show.

A general cheer went up as people helped themselves to more brunch refreshments. Draco sighed contentedly, relaxing back against Harry's chest and looking around the room.

Severus was bouncing Carina gently on his shoulder, his usual scowl faltering as his wife leaned in and placed a kiss on the bridge of his hooked nose. She smoothed her hand over their daughter's black curls and cooed softly.

Hermione settled herself and her refilled cup on the couch next to her husband, who immediately paused in his conversation with his father and wrapped an arm around her, kissing her temple as Arthur turned his attention to whispering something in Molly's ear that made her giggle and swat his arm.

Bill Weasley sat with his blonde wife on his lap and their daughter playing with Harry's godson at his feet, chatting with Blaise and Charlie, who kept sneaking glances at each other. Draco watched, amused, as Victoire leaned over and kissed Teddy on the cheek, causing him to cringe.

Next to Harry and Draco, Pansy was deep in discussion with Neville Longbottom, who was blushing at the attention, and a pregnant Luna Lovegood, further along than Hermione and four times as large with twins, was passing around a tray of snacks. She waved away anyone who tried to help her, including her nervous-looking husband, Rolf Something, who followed her around like a crup, anyway.

Gathered 'round a table playing cards were Ginny and Seamus - now married, George and his wife Angelina, and Fred and Eloise Midgen. Draco had introduced them after recalling Peter's ginger hair, and they had been seeing each other for several months. Draco smirked smugly, listening to the laughter and flirting and exploding cards, thinking that perhaps he was getting the hang of this romance thing, after all.

Harry leaned forward and nibbled his ear, and Draco shivered. "What are you thinking about?" Harry whispered, hugging him closer.

Draco smiled softly, basking in the nearly tangible warmth surrounding them. "True love," he answered honestly.

Harry smiled and pressed a kiss the side of Draco's neck. "Still think it doesn't exist?"

Draco shook his head, weaving his fingers through Harry's. "How could I?" he whispered, taking in the evidentiary proof all around them. He'd never been so happy to be proven wrong, and he knew that he didn't want to be anywhere but right here, right now, in love.


End file.
